


I Saw Stiles Kissing Santa Claus

by rlnerdgirl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, POV Outsider, Stiles is the Best Uncle of All Time, Stiles takes his niece to see Santa, he's kind of good at it, the mall Santa is totally someone we all know and love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:11:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rlnerdgirl/pseuds/rlnerdgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uncle Stiles is the best uncle ever. If there was an award for Best Uncle of All Time, Uncle Stiles would win it. I would vote for him, and so would all my friends, and he would totally win, because, not only does he let me play with glitter (really, that’s a big deal, I don’t want you to forget that), but he’s taking me to see Santa. Not the santa at the smelly, crowded, outside Farmer’s Market that Mommy and Daddy took me to on the weekend, but the real Santa, the one in the city, at the mall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Saw Stiles Kissing Santa Claus

Uncle Stiles is—no crossies—the best uncle on the face of the planet. He is fun and funny and likes to climb trees and do art projects and lets me _play with glitter_. Mommy never lets me play with glitter. Daddy _would_ let me play with glitter, but he’s afraid of Mommy. He says he’s not, but he is. Everybody’s a little afraid of Mommy.

 

Anyway, Uncle Stiles is the best uncle ever. If there was an award for Best Uncle of All Time, Uncle Stiles would win it. I would vote for him, and so would all my friends, and he would totally win, because, not only does he let me play with glitter (really, that’s a big deal, I don’t want you to forget that), but he’s taking me to see Santa. Not the santa at the smelly, crowded, outside Farmer’s Market that Mommy and Daddy took me to on the weekend, but the _real_ Santa, the one in the city, at the mall.

 

I know he’s the real Santa because Uncle Stiles told me, and Stiles doesn’t lie to me—it’s part of why he’s the Best Uncle of All Time. He says that the real Santa is at the mall because that way he can meet more kids, but that, since he can’t have every kid in the world sit on his lap, he hires fake santas (Stiles says fake santas have a small ‘s’ because they’re not the real Santa) to help him out.

 

So Uncle Stiles is taking me to see the _real_ Santa (big ‘S,’ because it’s the real Santa).

 

I’ve only ever met santas, so this is a pretty big deal. Even Uncle Stiles is excited about it. It’s another reason he’s the Best Uncle of All Time, if you need any more. Mommy doesn’t get excited about Santa, and while Daddy does a little, it’s not like Uncle Stiles. Uncle Stiles is so excited about seeing Santa that he showed up _thirty minutes early_ to pick me up.

 

The mall is, like, a long way away. Uncle Stiles takes me to Starbucks before we leave town and buys me a hot chocolate with extra vanilla, which means it’s the best hot chocolate of all times (well, not as good as Uncle Stile’s home made hot chocolate, but almost—definitely better than Daddy’s, but we can’t tell him that or else he’ll get all wobbly lipped and looking like a sad puppy). Starbucks’ hot chocolate with extra vanilla is so good that even Uncle Stiles gets one, and he usually gets coffee, because he really likes coffee, but it’s just that good.

 

Then I get to play with his iPhone.

 

That’s another reason he’s the Best Uncle of All Time, by the way.

 

I’ve been out to the mall in the city a bunch of times, but never during Christmas. It’s crazy pretty. There are lights hanging all around, and Christmas trees _inside the mall_ , and green and red ribbons. I’m not surprised though, because Santa is here to talk to kids, so of _course_ it’s going to look super awesome and totally like Christmas.

 

“Santa’s used to the North Pole where it’s Christmas all the time, so the mall goes all out to make sure he feels at home,” Uncle Stiles says. He’s smiling and laughing and all I can do is stare up at him, because he is _awesome_. Uncle Stiles knows what the North Pole is like.

 

Mommy and Daddy don’t tell me what the North Pole is like.

 

In the middle of the mall there’s a little house, “Santa’s vacation house, for when he comes down to visit all the kids,” Uncle Stiles says. The house looks like a really little cabin, like, I wonder how he can sleep and stuff in it, but I know that Santa is magic, so it’s probably a magic house.

 

Anyway, the house is maybe the best thing ever. It has candy canes as big as me leading up to the front door, where there’s a huge gold and red chair where Santa is sitting with a little boy in his lap, and it’s all so crazy awesome that I almost miss how long the line is.

 

Almost.

 

“Hey, Cassie, don’t worry,” Uncle Stiles says, bumping into me—he does that a lot, it’s kind of our thing.

 

Well, he does that with Daddy and Mommy too, but Uncle Stiles says it’s something that he does with the people that he loves, so when he does it to me it’s just showing that he loves me. It can be stupid sometimes, but I forgive him because he’s the Best Uncle of All Time.

 

“It’s so long. We’re never gonna be able to see him.” I frown. Uncle Stiles says I look silly when I frown, and that if I do it too much my face will get stuck that way, and I really don’t want my face to get stuck with me frowning, because I really like to smile, but I frown. I think about not being able to see Santa today and I want to cry. But I don’t cry, so I frown instead.

 

“Your face is going to get stuck that way,” Uncle Stiles warns. He’s trying to look serious, but I can tell he’s smiling.

 

“How can you smile! We’re not going to be able to see Santa!” I really want to cry. Instead I throw my arms up into the air, hoping Uncle Stiles will let go of my hand, but he doesn’t, and his arm goes flying too. Some other kids in line, who are definitely going to get to see Santa today, look at us like maybe we’re two people stuck together instead of two awesome people holding hands.

 

Uncle Stiles stops walking and gets down low so I can look into his eyes. He only does this when he seriously wants me to pay attention, so I take a deep breath, squeeze my lips together to keep them from wobbling, and stare at him. “Don’t worry. I know Santa. We’ll definitely get to see him.”

 

My jaw drops open. “You _know Santa_?”

 

Uncle Stiles has a huge grin on his face. He nods. “Yup.”

 

I should make Uncle Stiles an award for Best Uncle of All Time and Universes for Christmas. Maybe I should make him ten awards. Somehow that doesn’t seem like enough. “Oh. My. _God. Uncle Stiles you know Santa!_ ”

 

“So, we’ll walk around a little, Santa will let me know when he’s going to take a break from the other boys and girls, and then we’ll come back and meet him and you’ll get him all to yourself. That sound like a plan?”

 

I take a deep breath and nod quickly, over and over again, in case he doesn’t see it the first six times. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

 

We walk around. We go to the Teddy Bear Factor and I make a teddy bear while Uncle Stiles makes a dog (he calls it a wolf, but I know it’s a Husky, the Teddy Bear Factory doesn’t have wolves). My teddy bear gets ready for a cold winter and Uncle Stiles’ Husky gets dressed up like he’s Santa’s personal dog. It’s too much Christmas stuff on one stuffed animal, but Uncle Stiles looks really proud of himself, so I decide not to say anything. Then we go to a place with a lot of jewelry and I look at shiny rings and necklaces while Uncle Stiles picks up two silver rings.

 

I decide I need to help him, because he obviously doesn’t know much about jewelery, so I tap him on the elbow and point out, “Those aren’t really pretty.”

 

Uncle Stiles just smiles. “It’s okay. These ones aren’t supposed to have anything else on them.”

 

I look back at the rings in the box Uncle Stiles is holding and squint. They look familiar, but I don’t know why. Anyway, if Uncle Stiles wants to get plain old silver rings, he can do that. It’s Christmas and I need to be generous (that’s a word Ms. King taught us in school before we got out for Christmas, it means to be nice and let people be stupid and make mistakes without being mean about it, so this is obviously me being super generous).

 

When we go back to see Santa, we go through the back door of the little house, and there he is, sitting at a little square table with an iPhone out playing something that sounds like Angry Birds.

 

I tug on Uncle Stiles’ hand and he leans down. “Santa plays _Angry Birds_ ,” I whisper, because it is too cool not to share with someone. _I_ play Angry Birds, and so does Santa. We are practically best friends. Uncle Stiles knows Santa, and I am almost his best friend. This is the best Christmas ever and Uncle Stiles is the Best Uncle of All Time and Universes.

 

There is no line and I get to sit on Santa’s lap for _ten whole minutes_ , tell him my whole Christmas list (and even whisper into his ear about maybe me getting a nice big trophy for Christmas so that I can give it to Uncle Stiles), and Santa asks about my Mommy and Daddy and if they want anything special but maybe feel too silly asking him about. I have to think for a long time about that because I can’t believe Santa knows my Mommy and Daddy and is asking about them.

 

When I’m all done and Santa has nodded and told me he knows my list and lets me know that I’m on the nice list (even though he tells me that he’s actually not supposed to tell me that), I hop down and Uncle Stiles comes over. I think Uncle Stiles might actually get into Santa’s lap, but instead he leans down and gives Santa a kiss.

 

Uncle Stiles kisses Santa.

 

_Uncle Stiles kisses Santa._

 

“Uncle _Stiles_ ,” I gasp.

 

Uncle Stiles turns around and he’s pink. Bright, bright pink. He turns that color when he’s super embarrassed. Like the time he and his boyfriend were over for Thanksgiving and I found them playing hide and seek in the closet, and they’d had a fight in there about whose hiding spot it was and his shirt got torn and all the buttons ripped off. Mommy was super angry about that, but I think it was because they knocked over my coat and Uncle Stiles was standing on it.

 

“You can’t _kiss_ Santa,” I tell him. I whisper, hoping Santa won’t actually hear it. Maybe Santa doesn’t realize he was kissed. Rushing over I grab Uncle Stiles’ arm and drag him away from Santa, “You have a _boyfriend_ ,” I tell him.

 

I don’t know much about boyfriends and girlfriends, other than that I’m not supposed to have or be one until I’m, like, forty-five, but I do know that when you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, it means you can’t kiss people.

 

Well, you can’t kiss people like how Uncle Stiles just kissed Santa.

 

“Woops.” Uncle Stiles makes a face that is half frown half something else. He’s still pink and he rubs the back of his neck, like he does when he knows he’s been caught doing something not that good.

 

He did that in the closet too.

 

Leaning around Uncle Stiles, I say, “I’m sorry about him Santa. He shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Thank you, Cassie.” Santa says, but he looks like he’s smiling, so that’s good. Uncle Stiles probably isn’t on the naughty list then.

 

“Thank you for seeing me special, Santa,” I say, thanking him like I was taught to do by Mommy, and dragging Uncle Stiles toward the little door we came in through. I need to get Uncle Stiles away before Santa decides the kiss was really actually a bad thing and puts Uncle Stiles on the naughty list.

 

When I close the door behind us I turn to Uncle Stiles, yanking his arm until he’s down to my height. “You’re super lucky he didn’t put you on the naughty list, Uncle Stiles.”

 

Uncle Stiles just laughs. How he can laugh after almost getting put on the naughty list, I don’t know. I’m a little scared for him. “Thanks for getting my head on straight, Cassie. How about another hot chocolate before we head home?” He pats my head and waits for me to nod before standing up.

 

On the car ride home Uncle Stiles asks, “Do you really think the rings are ugly?” He looks sad.

 

I frown and hold my hand out until he hands me the box with the rings, and I lift the lid to look at them. They are plain and silver and don’t have anything special about them, but they are shiny and nice. I look at Uncle Stiles’ hands and imagine one of the rings on one of his fingers. “Nah. They’re really nice.”

 

When I look up at his face, he’s smiling. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt: _Derek as the worst mall Santa the world has ever known._
> 
> Obviously I failed at doing that, but I did do mall Santa Derek. Kind of. Maybe I'll give terrible mall Santa Derek a chance, if I have it in me.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](rlnerdgirl.tumblr.com) for writing updates and whatnot!


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